


Butterfly Kisses and Wolverine Dreams

by Featherbelle



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherbelle/pseuds/Featherbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A grumbly Logan wants to know what butterfly kisses are. Rhiannon, with a little not-so-helpful help from Marie, tells him. Or is it shows him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly Kisses and Wolverine Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: This crazy idea came to me the other night at work when “Butterfly Kisses” by Bob Carlisle was playing. Blame Logan and Rogue. Trust me, you’ll see why it’s all their fault. 
> 
> Feedback: Please do, but be warned: flames will be summarily shredded by Wolvie's adamantium shinys.

Rhiannon walked back into the mansion, towel around her waist. She’d given up on laying out by the pool and trying to tan. Her skin was hopeless. She sighed and headed for the stairs. She made it as far as the landing before anyone saw her. And damn her luck if it wasn’t her best friend and fellow troublemaker, Marie D’Ancanto, known to those in the X-mansion as Rogue. What trouble was she cooking up now? And… _oh God…_ she had Logan with her. But he didn’t look too happy. _What the hell_?

 “Rhi! Wait up!” Rogue yelled at her, a grin on her face, a grumbling Logan behind her.

 “Hey, Marie, Logan, what’s up?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in Logan’s direction.

 “I just need your help explaining something to Logan, sugar,” Rogue replied, getting ahead of Rhiannon on the stairs.

 “Okay, what?” Rhiannon asked, following behind her friend. At the top of the stairs, Marie took a right, towards Logan’s room, where Rhiannon’s room was to the left. “Hey, where are you going?” Marie yelled at her.

 “To my room, to get out of this useless bathing suit,” Rhiannon replied.

 “Nah, hon, just come with us. Logan won’t mind,” Marie said, pushing the door to Logan’s room open.

 “What in hell is she up to?” Rhiannon murmured just low enough for Logan’s extra-sensitive hearing to catch. He grunted, a silent shrug rolling his shoulders. Marie smiled back at her as if to say _See? Told ya so._

 Once they were all in Logan’s room, Marie said, “Okay, so…earlier, Jubilee, Kitty and I were in our room listening to the radio. “Butterfly Kisses” was playing, and it made us bawl. Logan heard us crying and barged in, demanding to know which one of the boys he had to kill,” she laughed.

 Rhiannon snickered at that. “Overprotective Wolverine to the rescue.”

“Yeah, well, we told him it wasn’t any of the guys, just this song. He looked at us like we were crazy. Then we explained the meaning of the song, and now he only thinks we’re slightly less than certifiable,” Marie grinned.

Rhiannon sighed. “Logan, it’s from the point-of-view of a dad about his daughter, you know, ‘daddy’s little girl’ and all that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that part, but what the hell are butterfly kisses?” he asked, clearly confused.

A fiendish light entered Marie’s eyes. “Let’s show him.”

Rhiannon’s eyes widened. “What do you mean  _we_ ?”

“You’ll see,” she grinned, clearly more Rogue than Marie at the moment. She gestured for them to sit on the foot of Logan’s bed, slightly angled towards one another.

“You know what they are?” Rogue asked Rhiannon.

“Yes,” Rhiannon rolled her eyes at her mischievous friend.

“So, show him,” Rogue prodded her.

“You couldn’t have done this?” Rhiannon complained as she reached for Logan’s hand, sufficient enough in her mind for a demonstration of butterfly kisses.  _Especially_ with Logan. She was having a hard enough time concentrating sitting this close to Logan in the bikini Rogue had not allowed her to change out of. His big, warm hand in hers made her thoughts scatter even more.

Rogue, however, had other ideas. “Oh, no, sugar, that’s not the right way,” she said, wicked glee evident in her voice.

Rhiannon frowned, now realizing what Rogue was up to. Logan growled. “What in the  _hell_ are butterfly kisses? Definition.  _NOW_ ,” he demanded, irritated with Marie because he could sense Rhi’s nervousness and agitation, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want her to be nervous around him.

“Well, they’re soft little eyelash flutters against the skin, usually the cheek,” Rhiannon stammered, blushing profusely, Logan’s room suddenly seeming much smaller.

Logan’s head snapped up and he glared at Rogue. “Out, Marie, now!”

The door closed behind a giggling Rogue. Logan waited until he could hear that she was long gone.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” Rhiannon said, the mortification clear in her tone.

“What for?” he grumbled.

“Marie being a brat. That was  _not_ my idea, I hope you know that.”

“Of course. I could smell it on you. That, and your suntan lotion,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Rhiannon said, getting up to leave, panic setting in at the thought of being in the room with him like this one second longer.

But Logan had other ideas. “Wait a minute. Where do you think you’re going?” He was on his feet and closed the gap between them in seconds. He caught her arm and spun her around, pinning her against the door. “Where’s my demonstration, darlin’?” his voice a rumbling purr at her ear.

She gaped at him as he guided her to sit at the foot of his bed once more, giving her towel a sharp tug and tossing it aside.

“Are you sure? I mean, Rogue was just doing this to get me all flustered,” Rhiannon babbled, her gaze held fast by the gold lightning flashing in his deep hazel eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I think I like you flustered,” he said with an ornery grin. “Looks good on you. Let’s trade. What do you say? A butterfly kiss for…” his grin turned downright wicked. “A Wolverine one.”

Her heart skipped not one, but several, beats. She hesitantly reached up and laid a hand against his whiskered jaw. Logan closed his eyes. Rhiannon leaned in until she could feel his beard against her cheek and fluttered her eyelashes several times, making Logan groan. “My turn, Princess,” he growled, kicking his boots off.

Hooking his foot behind her knee, he gently pushed her back onto his bed. Leaning over her, he let his gaze wander, frank and appreciative. “Damn, baby, you’re beautiful.” He ducked his head and licked her lips. When her mouth fell open on a sigh, he covered her mouth and body with his own. She tasted beer on his tongue and caught the vaguest scent of motor oil.

Her hands tangled in his hair as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck, to the spot just above her jugular where shoulder and neck met. The next thing she knew, she felt a rush of pleasure as his sharp canines nibbled her skin. She arched her neck and he bit her again, this time drawing blood, which he lapped up eagerly. “ _Mine_ ,” the Wolverine growled possessively in her ear, and somehow she knew without looking his eyes had changed to burnished mahogany. Her entire body shivered as she whispered, “I wish, Logan…God…I wish…”

He grabbed one of her legs and pulled, and she wrapped it around his calves, the rough denim against her smooth leg making her mind whirl with thoughts of things she knew she could never have. His hands slid up her body until they were wrapped around her head, thumbs splayed on her cheekbones, the other fingers braced behind her ears. He took her mouth again and again, intense open-mouthed kisses that left her dizzy and breathless. The Wolverine did not spare her any of the physical result of his feelings for her. Logan felt the same way, but he didn’t want her to feel as though she’d been seduced, even though he knew he could pull it off in such a way that she would more than enjoy the seduction.

Wrestling back control from the Wolverine was difficult, especially since the Wolverine thought of her as his mate. Was she? Logan truly hoped so, but only time would tell for certain. And he wanted to give her that time. He’d heard what she’d whispered when the Wolverine had made his declaration. If she really did want him…

Logan cast those thoughts aside and rolled onto his side, pulling her with him. She curled up next to him with her head on his chest. “Wow,” she murmured. “That was…” she paused, not even able to think of a word that was enough to describe what she felt at that moment.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It was.”

Rhiannon was now loath to get up and leave Logan. She was still in a bit of shock over what she’d heard him say.  _Mine_ , he’d called her and his tone was all kinds of possessive. She shivered and Logan rubbed her arms. “You cold?” he asked, knowing damn well she most certainly was  _not_ . Gently easing himself out from under her, he got up and found her towel. He had an idea, and he thought she might like this. But first he made sure the curtains over his windows were fully closed. His room overlooked the backyard of the estate, and he didn’t want any curious eyes roaming upwards.

Carrying the towel back to her, he laid it across the foot of the bed. He wanted her totally relaxed, so he turned on his CD player and put in something he knew she loved. On repeat. Kenny G’s “Songbird” essayed from the speakers and she turned her head towards him. “Logan?” “Shhhhh,” he responded softly. He snagged a few more towels from his bathroom and got to work.

Picking up her suntan oil that she’d somehow dropped when Marie had ushered them in the room, he put some in his hands and rubbed them together to warm it up then massaged it into her shoulders and neck with deep, penetrating strokes. He bit his tongue at where his thoughts were going and shook his head. Using his whole hand, he searched out knots and tense spots in her upper body and slowly, methodically took them away, using one hand to replenish the suntan oil every so often.

When her neck, shoulders and back were done, he laid one of his towels across her back to keep her warm and started on her legs, one at a time. Her legs were so slim both of his hands easily wrapped around her thighs, hauling hard on the Wolverine’s chains when he snapped and snarled due to where Logan’s hands were, and what part of Rhiannon they were closest to.

Inhaling deeply through his nostrils, the scent of Hawaiian Tropic invading his senses like a drug, he put his mind back on his work, the little murmurs of contentment coming from Rhiannon making him wish he could keep this up indefinitely. Well, he could…but he didn’t want to hurt his favorite girl.

Once her thighs were nicely pliable, he covered them with a towel and moved on, kissing the back of her knees and rubbing his beard over the sensitive skin. The sound she made when he did that went straight to his groin, so he picked up the suntan oil again.

A few minutes later, she was covered from neck to ankle in towels, lying boneless in his bed, on the edges of sleep. He was feeling rather smug and content himself. Logan dropped down into the leather chair in the corner of the room, happy enough just to watch her and listen to her breathing.

When he was sure she had indeed fallen asleep and deeply so, he tenderly picked her up and carried her back outside to one of the lawn chairs by the pool. He set her Hawaiian Tropic bottle down on the ground, and draped her beach towel across her back like a blanket. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful, he couldn’t resist kneeling down and giving her one last soft kiss on the mouth. “Logan…” she murmured in her sleep.

His eyes widened at the sound. Standing back up, he quickly but quietly got the hell out of there and back to his room before he did something incredibly stupid.

***

_About an hour or so later…_

Rhiannon woke up and stretched lazily, not wanting to lose the delicious dream she’d had. She hadn’t exactly wanted to fall asleep while sunbathing, for fear of sunburn, but if sunburn was the price she had to pay for the dream she’d had of Logan, she’d gladly walk around looking like a lobster on a daily basis.

Slowly she sat up and swung her legs off the lawn chair, stretching her feet on the sunwarmed concrete. Picking up her suntan oil and towel, she made her way back inside, walking slowly and feeling slightly dazed.

About halfway up the stairs, she ran into Marie. Marie took one look at her and grinned. “That’s some sunburn, there, sugar. You better put something on that,” her friend advised with a wink as she sauntered past.

_Burn? What burn?_ She didn’t feel the telltale sting of a sunburn anywhere, but maybe Marie had noticed a pink splotch she couldn’t feel yet. Scampering quickly into her room and the adjoining bathroom, she tossed her towel into the hamper and threw on the bright bathroom lights. She looked over her arms and legs and found nothing suspicious. Twisting this way and that, she looked at her back and shoulders and found nothing. But as she was moving, she caught sight of a dark spot under the fall of her hair on the left side of her neck. She twisted her hair up into a messy bun to get it out of the way and turned her head. What she saw made her jaw fall open, and her heart jump in her chest.

Her eyes wide, she gawked at the bite mark on her neck. She desperately wanted to touch it, to truly confirm that she wasn’t imaging things, but something in her screamed  _don’t touch it_ ! She didn’t want anything to muddle his scent on her skin, or tarnish his mark on her body. Gazing at the mark in the mirror one last time, she sighed and stripped off her bikini. She decided against a shower, loving the smell of the Hawaiian Tropic. Rhiannon quickly changed into a tank top and jeans and hurried downstairs, hoping she wasn’t late. She and Logan had made a ‘date’ earlier in the week to watch tonight’s hockey game and she didn’t want to miss the opening faceoff. The Vancouver Canucks were playing against the Edmonton Oilers. They had a bet going on this game, and although they hadn’t decided on the stakes yet, she now knew exactly what she wanted if the ‘Nucks won, and she knew they would. The Oilers sucked.  


End file.
